You Were So Busy Wondering If You Could…

“Heeeeeeey, man.”

Ah, fuck.

“I feel unbelievable. Do you have any glowsticks?”

No, I don’t have any glowsticks.

“Vicks Vapo-Rub?”

No. The eggheads got you high, huh?

“No, man. It’s not called ‘getting high’ if it’s for science.”

What’s it called?

“Testing a hypothesis. And the hypothesis being tested is ‘I wonder if we can get octopuses fucked up?'”

Can they?

“I’m peaking so hard, bro. You wanna dance?”

Not really.

“Put on some music. I’m feeling old school. You got any Frankie Knuckles?”

Yes, but I’m not putting it on.

“Fine, okay. I can listen to David Mancuso.”

Dude, I’m not playing any music for you.

“Play with my hectocotylus.”

I’m also not gonna play with your dick-tentacle.

“You’re a downer, man. I need some water.”

You’re immersed in it.

“Riiiiiight. Forgot. It’s like that speech David Foster Wallace gave.”

You know some shockingly obscure bullshit for a cephalopod.

“I read.”

Sure.

“When the sun comes up, we’re getting breakfast.”

Leave me alone, Drug-Addled Octopus.